Loyalty Is Her Second Name
by Loteva
Summary: The life of Lucia, the minor character from Darth Bane Trilogy, and how Bane influenced it. Or maybe he didn't? General fic, no pairings. Chapter Three: Walking in the Gloom.
1. The Early Years

Title: Loyalty Is Her Second Name

Author: Loteva

Main character: Lucia from Darth Bane Trilogy

Time: Spans through all her life, so before and during the Bane Trilogy

Warnings: Violence, language, sexual innuendo

Additional information: no pairings, general fic, spoilers start in chapter 3

Standard disclaimer applies.

* * *

**Loyalty Is Her Second Name**

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Chapter 1

The Early Years

* * *

Her first memories are blurred, more feelings and impressions than concrete images, as if seen through a heavy rain. Or tears.

She remembers the warm, thin arms enveloping her in a comforting hug, a gentle hand covering her mouth to muffle tiny cries of fear and sorrow she couldn't stop at the time – after all she was still a small child, unlearned of control. She also remembers the screams – angry, loud and drunk – and how scared she was of what would have happened, had she been found by the people who screamed.

The one who held her was terrified as well. Her older sister lived with them much longer and knew what exactly was to be feared. Yet, despite the trembling, she protected Lucia, instead of escaping on her own and leaving the younger sister at the mercy of two beings who called themselves their parents. Now, after all these years, Lucia can feel only awe and admiration for her sister's courage.

The fear was too strong for them to stand for long, so at the ripe age of six she found herself a runaway from home, living on the streets. The girls joined a gang – the safety in numbers, or so they thought. They quickly learned the skills necessary to survive in the inhospitable environment of the slums – begging, pick-pocketing and most importantly getting away. It wasn't a matter of choice. Everyone who didn't contribute was left to fend for himself and soon became another corpse littering the neighbourhood, a victim to the rule of the strong.

Through all the hardships of the rough life they led her sister was always there – never wavering, the pillar of strength she could lean on safely. She was the source of morality, the base on which was built the conscience in the mind of the young child, even if the said child was asked what the morality is, would have guessed it to be a type of food. Young Lucia couldn't imagine the world without her sister – and she didn't have to, because all too soon it became a nightmarish reality.

She doesn't remember what they did and it probably doesn't matter. Enough to say, the sisters along with a few members of their gang enraged a man with a blaster and no qualms about exacting revenge on a bunch of defenseless children.

Lucia remembers how she ran with the others through the bottle-neck back alleys. The Man was the scariest thing she had ever seen in her short life, a living, breathing monster who could and would kill her just on a whim. She could almost feel his disgusting, smelly breathes on the back of her neck thus she quickened her pace. The waft of air caused by the speed cleansed her flesh from the phantom filth.

She didn't think much; there was only the speed, the unshakeable urge to flee and the thump of the blood in her eardrums, the fast pulse setting the rhythm to her sprint. Everything was so clear but she didn't have time for that. She ran.

Suddenly, just in front of her appeared the loose and cracked cobblestone. Lucia jumped over it, not even breaking her stride. Then she heard the gunshot followed by a yell of pain and she glanced back.

It was her sister. Lucia saw her on the knees, after she'd obviously tripped on the treacherous cobblestone.

'Get up!' Lucia shouted at her sister. The Man was gaining on them, they needed to hurry!

Her sister was lifting herself up when another gunshot rang and the red blaster bolt of death pierced her back. The Man had a maniacal grin on his face as he advanced on them, celebrating his first kill of the night. Lucia watched her sister hit the pavement – a glassy, a little confused look on her face and a red stain rapidly blossoming on her chest – barely aware she was screaming.

'Leave her! She's dead!' a boy from their group gripped Lucia's arm painfully, snapping her back to reality. She numbly followed after the rest, not able to cope with the anguish at the moment.

Her world was coming undone as its pillar shattered and laid in a pool of drying blood.

* * *

She was alone.

Lucia huddled against the wall in the gang's hideout, staring blankly at her dirty hands. They were shaking badly and she realized she was cold. She was wrapped in one thin blanket. Usually when she was cold, her sister would share her blanket to warm them both up. But now she was a cold corpse and Lucia was just cold.

The girl glanced at their spot, or rather their previous spot. It was occupied by someone else – a bigger, older girl who also took the blanket, which belonged to Lucia's sister. No one said a thing about it. It wasn't a theft – Lucia was just too weak to stop the other.

Weak.

Too weak to save her sister, too weak to protect their spot or even a stupid blanket.

She was cold and alone as she drifted off to dream about blaster bolts and a maniacal grin on the Man's face.

* * *

Lucia remembers that the next day she went to look for her sister's body. She found the right alley, the loose cobblestone was still there as if laying in wait to trip another victim – but the body vanished. There was only a reddish-brown blotch on the pavement, the only evidence of a crime. The first rain would sluice it down.

Numbly she stared at the stain, the last memento of her sister's existence, which would soon be dead and forgotten – like she hadn't been there at all. Only the sound of someone's boots hitting the pavement brought Lucia back to reality. She fled.

It rained that night.

* * *

Lucia remembers the days that turned into years, which were always marked in her mind as the time after her sister's death. It consisted mostly of the constant, harsh battle for survival. At some point she was taken to the orphanage, where she got her basic education. Then, at fourteen, she ran away and joined another gang. She was stronger and smarter, but in no way could it temper her impetuosity and brash attitude, instead bolstering it. She was good at survival but did it matter when she couldn't even tell what she was living for?

The answer didn't come fast, but when it did – it changed everything.

Seventeen-year-old, pretending to be older wasn't a strange sight at the wretched cantina. Lucia sat at the counter, enjoying her drink while keeping an eye out for trouble that would eventually come. And it did – just not in the form she expected.

Through the thick, smelly vapour that was the main component of the cantina's atmosphere threaded the silhouette of a man wearing a characteristic hat with a wide brim. Upon reaching the bar the stranger sank onto the stool next to Lucia and ordered a drink with a weary wave of hand. At first, the girl didn't pay him any mind... until he took off his hat and laid it on the counter. The movement she caught out the corner of her eye caused her to turn to have a better look.

It felt like being punched in the gut. Horrified, she stared at the familiar, but more haggard features of the man. Although the mad grin was missing, she would recognize him anywhere as his face had been haunting her dreams for years. It was the face of her sister's killer.

The Man noticed her staring. 'Like what you see, baby?'

The revulsion swept through her at the implication, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she took a sip of her beverage and replied in a flirty tone, 'Yeah, but I wouldn't mind to see more.'

The excitement of the easy conquest lighted his eyes. He finished the drink in one big gulp and gestured to the door. 'How about we go outside, baby?'

Lucia nodded and followed him out of the cantina, fingering the blaster safely hidden under her coat. She had a mind to shoot his head off his shoulders right then and there but something stopped her and it certainly wasn't the kindness of her heart.

'I have a place nearby. This way,' she said, leading him into the maze of deserted and dirty back alleys. She didn't have any plan yet her every step was confident with the unexpected clarity that came upon her out of nowhere.

After a few minutes of walking the Man was getting impatient.

'When will we get there? You said it was near!'

'Almost there,' she muttered in response.

As they reached the halfway point of the nondescript alley, she suddenly stopped. Taking a deep, calming breathe, Lucia turned back and pointed the blaster at the startled man, effectively silencing his questions.

'Do you remember this place?' she asked.

The Man looked confused. 'No and what do you want? I've got money, baby, we can talk about it, just drop the blaster,' he tried to steer her attention away from the hand moving surreptitiously towards his own weapon but she wasn't fooled for a second.

'Shut up! Don't move or I blow your head off!' she barked.

Lucia ordered him to drop his blaster on the ground and kick it away, all the time keeping him at the gunpoint. She didn't want to leave anything to chance.

'Okay, I'm now harmless. Listen, ask whatever you want, I have connections with the mayor, we can work something out, there's no need to shoot,' the Man was talking fast in an attempt to appease her.

'There will be if you don't shut up!' she hissed.

He's fallen silent.

'You killed someone here. A girl. Do you remember now?' Lucia asked.

She looked him in the eyes but there was no spark of recognition, just dull incomprehension.

'It was nine years ago,' she added desperately, but the Man shook his head.

'I must've been ass-drunk,' he offered.

The dam broke and the icy tide of fury took control of Lucia.

'Come here,' she commanded and when he walked over the loose cobblestone she stopped him. 'On your knees. Turn around.' She was behind him, in the dim light she could see the nervous shaking of his shoulders. It made her feel so powerful, so right. She pressed the muzzle of the blaster against the back of his head. The cowardly whimpers and the smell of urine coming from him filled her with disgust.

'Please, no, don't ki...' The sound of released blaster bolt cut off the pathetic pleadings.

Lucia put the blaster away and watched the blood quickly brim the small hollows in the pavement. She would have walked away but something was keeping her in the spot. It took a while for her numb and shocked mind to realize what it was.

The killer of her sister was dead but her vengeance wasn't completed.

* * *

That night a team of firemen was dispatched eight times. The fires were usually started as a result of the carelessness like a still burning death stick thrown into the trash but one time there wasn't found any plausible cause. The only clue could be a faint odour of fuel and a pile of ashes, already being scattered on the wind. However, the firemen decided not to worry about that incident as no one was hurt and no property was damaged, not counting a blackened patch of pavement.

* * *

Lucia was standing on the bank of the polluted river which was rolling lazily through the city of her birth and life. She watched the red, breath-taking sunrise and inhaled the surprisingly fresh, morning air, feeling the serenity and completeness wash over her for the first time ever.

The view of the familiar buildings bathed in the red sunlight has been etched in her memory as the sign of the closed chapter in her life. There was nothing left for her in that city.

Finally she was free.

* * *

_to be continued... _

* * *

AN: Thanks for reading and please review! I'm open to all opinions, critiques, suggestions and advice. English isn't my first language so please feel free to point out the mistakes.


	2. Freedom of Choice

**Loyalty Is Her Second Name**

* * *

Chapter 2

Freedom of Choice

* * *

Being free certainly doesn't mean that life miraculously becomes easier, Lucia discovered the hard way during the five months after leaving her home planet. If anything, it got even harder.

Another truth she learned in her time as a spacer – the galaxy is a big and scary place, especially when it's at war.

When she'd been on her backwater native planet, the knowledge about the war between the Republic and the Sith lingered at the fringes of her awareness. She was too preoccupied with her own problems, like finding a way to get some money, to concern herself with it. The war only existed in the tales of travelers passing by, on the news and on a few billboards encouraging to join Republican army. Some of the street kids she knew had volunteered, not out of genuine conviction, but out of hunger and desperation. After all, the military fed and clothed its soldiers, in turn demanding the payment in obedience and blood. For many the benefits fairly outweighed the costs, hence their eager enlistment. Lucia had a special moniker for them – suicidal idiots.

In her mind it was a pretty simple concept – joining the army meant going head-on into the battle wherever your superiors chose to send you, while staying on the streets and starving still guaranteed a much higher life expectancy. Not to mention, why should she fight in a war that wasn't hers and risk her life for a government who doesn't care about anyone but rich people supporting it? Young Lucia was too keen on survival to ever consider making such a colossal mistake.

She remembers her reasoning with a startling clarity, yet it always amazes her how she went against everything she stood for, even with a full knowledge what exactly the consequences would entail. Because, really, if the suicidal idiots enlisted in the Republican army, what do you call people like her who joined the Sith?

* * *

Lucia kicked an empty bottle littering the pathway aside. A heavy sigh escaped her chapped lips as she wearily made her way through the town in search of a local weapon's dealer. This morning she's lost her most recent employer, a gruff Devaronian, who ran a small freight business, shipping the goods between the few planets in this insignificant star system on the edge of a Mid Rim. Apparently he tried to swindle the wrong people, people who expressed their discontent by sending a blaster bolt through the fraud's skull. She barely escaped the crossfire unscathed at the cost of her customized blaster.

Lucia cursed the dead man and his greedy ways, as he was the one responsible for leaving her in a very unfavourable situation. He didn't pay her for their last freight run and the money was as good as gone. Her meager savings were just enough to replace the lost blaster. After that, she would have to once again rely on luck and street smarts to survive another day.

In the understandably sour mood, Lucia entered the small weapon's shop. The solid looking countertop was polished to the shining and a few touch monitors, which displayed the wares, were currently available. The shop, though clean and smelling like a minty air freshener, bore all the signs of a place which had seen its share of blasterfights – the battered chairs, the spots on the walls and ceiling covered with cracks forming concentric circles, not to mention the apparent reinforcement of the countertop with a thick sheet of blasterproof transparisteel. The shop assistant was a teenaged human male with a short mop of fair hair, no doubt courtesy of a dye, judging by his dark eyebrows. He's been disinterestedly flipping the pages of some holomag, but upon the entry of probably the first customer of the day he straightened up and gave a friendly smile, though Lucia suspected it had more to do with her being a young human female than just a customer.

'Hello miss, how can I help you?' he asked pleasantly.

'I need a new blaster pistol,' she said briskly, getting straight to the point.

The boy, taken aback by her harshness, quickly nodded and rummaged through the shelves, pulling out a few choices, which he set on the counter for her to browse. All the while, he animatedly narrated the valors of each gun. If he aimed to impress her with his in-depth knowledge, he utterly failed – she felt more annoyed with his upbeat and constant chatter.

'I don't need any of these heavy blasters. They all have the strong punch but without proper customization they're too imprecise and have a too short range,' she managed to wedge one word in during a small pause for breathe the guy took. He looked a little stunned by her assertiveness and she had to wonder if she really looked to him like a wallflower who was absolutely clueless when it comes to weaponry.

'That's what I like – a customer who knows what she's looking for!' a grizzly older man emerged from the backroom and gave out a small chuckle. 'You should stop talking her ear off, son, if you don't want her to run off. You wouldn't want to lose us such a pretty customer, would you?'

The teenager blushed due to the goodhearted teasing, offering a clumsy protest, but he wasn't fooling anyone. Lucia felt amused by the interaction between them and the way the older man, apparently the shop owner, sneaked in a compliment for her in the remark.

'I see you know your guns. A guard, I take?' the man assessed her.

'Something like that,' she shrugged non-committally.

He hummed to himself then picked up one from among the proffered blasters.

'I recommend this HG-45, it's reasonably powerful and very accurate. One of the most reliable personal weapons, I'd say. The Sith army uses it as a standard equipment for its troops.'

Lucia raised her eyebrow a fraction at that tidbit of information. She took the gun and looked it over carefully. She must have appeared hesitant to the man, who decided she needed more convincing.

'If you want, you can try it out. We have the shooting range in the backyard.'

She considered the offer and nodded. Giving the description was all good, but she always preferred the hands-on experience.

The shop owner led her out through a backdoor and, true to his word, there was a decent shooting range in the yard, the humanoid target-boards evenly set in a gradually increased distances. Lucia was pleasantly surprised, as she half-expected just a fence with bottles lined on top.

She took a few steps ahead and assumed the firing stance, as she switched off the safety on a HG-45 and meticulously aimed at the center of the nearest target before pulling the trigger. The shot went a little to the left, eliciting a frown from her.

'Try a two-handed grip, miss,' advised the shop owner, who was standing to the side and observing her. 'It seems this pistol is a bit heavier than you're used to.'

Lucia nodded and changed her grip. The next shot hit just a centimeter off to the right, but the third time was a charm and she finally struck the bulls-eye. Satisfied, she went for the targets in the far away. There were no more misses.

From the perspective of time, Lucia realizes she should have taken notice of the speculative gleam in the shop owner's eyes. On the other hand, was there any point to considering what-ifs and what-should-have-beens? She didn't believe so, as all the past was what made the present her.

After the impromptu target practice, Lucia turned to the man with uplifted spirits.

'I like it. How much?' she asked, smirking.

'Just three hundred credits for you, miss.'

The smile drained from her face, as she had barely one hundred. She quietly held the gun out.

'But,' the man began as he didn't take it, 'it could be for free in exchange for your services. Do you have any experience guarding freighters?'

* * *

There was really no surprise she agreed to his offer in a heartbeat. The new blaster plus one thousand credits (one-fourth paid before the job) was a dream deal for her, given her desperate financial situation. Once again, she should have been more suspicious, however at the time she thought if there was some sort of a catch, the benefits would still be worth it in the end. She didn't know how much her life would change because of that carefree, optimistic attitude.

The ship she was hired to guard was well past its days of glory, she noted upon her arrival at the docking bay 431. It's oblong, scratched hull stretched for around eighty meters. Only bare remains of an old paint job gave out that at some point it had been black. It didn't possess any finite colour, instead sporting the various stains in thousand shades of gray. All in all, it looked one lightspeed jump away from disaster.

The rest of the guard detail was even less encouraging. A pack of four Gamorreans was standing to the side, squealing and grunting to each other. Their heated exchange was silenced as the shop owner and Lucia came over to them. She tried to hide her less than pleased expression, not wanting to get on the bad side of her coworkers from the start. It seemed like the job was going to be as hard as the pay was gratifying.

When the shop owner finished the discussion with the bulky aliens, he unsuccessfully tried to open the ramp. Getting impatient, he pounded at the closed entrance, which reverberated hollowly, and shouted, 'Marv! Open up! I brought the guards!' He hit again for good measure.

'Alright, alright! Stop knocking, you nerf! My head kriffing hurts!' came the cranky response from the ship. The ramp unfolded and lowered to the ground. Up there stood an older man in worn spacer's clothing, his jacket stained with grease and other fluids used during repairs. He was rubbing his head and squinting at them with bloodshot eyes. Obviously hungover, Lucia concluded.

'What're you looking at! Come up!' he commanded snappily and gestured at them impatiently. The shop owner, Lucia and Gamorreans climbed up the ramp. The inside of the ship wasn't any better than the outside – lots of missing plating uncovered the innards of the ship, the cables and other wiring spilling out and hanging around, probably threatening with electrocution anyone careless enough to touch them. One of the Gamorreans squeaked in pain – scratch that, it was for sure. Lucia looked warily, trying to spy any loose wires ahead.

'Watch it!' Marv warned them, a little too late for that unfortunate Gamorrean.

Lucia suppressed a sigh, trying to not be bothered by the stale air, which would indicate failure of ventilation systems. She had had it much worse, so she would endure it graciously. She could endure a lot more for one thousand credits.

Another pained squeak sounded and a smell of a burnt Gamorrean spread in the air.

'You're deaf or something?! I said to watch it!' Marv yelled.

* * *

Lucia barely remembers the journey. It's not like there is much to remember besides the encompassing boredom, which tasted of the stale air with undertones of chemicals and sweat. She kept mostly to herself, as the captain didn't make the best company and Gamorreans weren't in the equation to begin with. The old ship despite it's atrocious condition didn't blow up and didn't seem like it would anytime soon. From what she gathered their cargo was weaponry, but nothing more specific. To relieve the restlessness, she even resorted to making some small repairs, her lack of aptitude with mechanics notwithstanding. She still helped more than the decrepit trash can that posed as the ship's astromech.

The uneventful dullness was brought to much anticipated end upon the landing on Traon III, non-descript little planet at the edges of the Mid Rim. Moderate climate, lands blanketed by sparse, prairie vegetation, most of the water supplies located around the equator, not many indigenous lifeforms. The most prominent species were banthas, which had been brought there by the original settlers. The planet wouldn't be worth a second glance if not for one critical detail – there was a Sith military outpost on the surface.

She remembers feeling disbelief at her own naivety and anger at the all too easy way she was played to take this job. She wanted no involvement in the galactic war and now she was in the middle of the Sith-controlled planet, guarding one of their suppliers, so her discontent was entirely understandable. Pity her employer didn't possess a single shred of empathy, as opposed to overgrown business instincts, as she would find out in a due time.

'Why wasn't I informed we'll be working for the Sith?!' she asked Marv indignantly instead of a greeting, when he came up to her as she was watching the unloading of their freight.

'It's just business, no need to get upset. If they pay good, hard money, I've got no reason to complain,' he replied easily. 'I hear you're a good shot. Come, you'll accompany me to the meeting.'

'So you trust them to pay but not to not shoot you in the back?' she questioned bitterly.

'Don't tell me you're a Republic-lover, because I wouldn't believe you,' Marv snorted.

'And why not?'

'If you truly were this patriotic Republican type, you would be in the trenches with the rest of their army,' he answered. 'Now stop bitching and come.'

Lucia recognized the order from her employer and followed him from the docking bay to the streets, eyeing all passers-by with distrust, one hand constantly on the handle of her sheathed blaster.

'Relax a little,' Marv chided quietly as he discreetly bumped her on the arm causing her hand to fall off the gun. 'You make everyone around a tad nervous. We don't want to unnerve some Sith, do we?'

Lucia marginally loosened her stiff posture, yet her eyes stayed alert, never ceasing their wandering of surroundings in search of potential harmful threats. Marv seemed satisfied with that concession for a moment.

The infrastructure of the planet's only space port and capital was built in the medium Republic style, which signified the approximate date of the colonization for around four hundred years ago. While new compared to the Republican standard, it's poor condition was a testament to the incompetence of the authorities in this century if not even longer. Since the Sith took over, nothing's changed with the new rulers more concerned about their war effort than renovations. Lucia remembers seeing many cities like this during the war, wasting away in neglect and rapidly losing the beauty they may have had in the past.

They passed the market, where the last merchants were packing up their stands due to the late hour, and entered the governmental district. The Sith patrols were more prominent there, making rounds frequently, however they mostly consisted of fresh-faced recruits, probably deemed too green yet promising enough to invest more effort into their training than send them to the front lines in the character of the cannon fodder. Once Lucia and Marv were halted and questioned about their purpose, they soon found themselves escorted straight to the office of the quartermaster.

'Good to see you again, captain Stahl,' greeted the middle-aged Neimoidian, standing up to clasp Marv's hand in a brief handshake.

'And you too, quartermaster Paasok,' replied Marv in kind.

'I received reports that your shipment is in order so I take it something different brings you here?' the Sith inquired, retaking a seat behind the desk. Marv also claimed a chair in front of him, leaving Lucia to lean against the wall next to the door.

'Well, you've got me, it's not a social call. Thought you'd be interested in the new personalized grenade launchers...'

The two engaged into a loud discussion of some military tech and weapons, weighing the costs and benefits, as it apparently involved additional investments from the army. Lucia listened disinterestedly, not really understanding what was being said. Her attention was picked when she heard soft footsteps in the corridor stopping right behind the door. For a brief moment she considered alerting the quartermaster of the eavesdropper, but she decided against it. It wasn't like she owed him or the Sith anything. If they wanted, they could have a better security or at least install soundproof doors.

It most definitely wasn't her problem.

* * *

Lucia had other, more pressing problems. Like not getting shot by the Sith troopers on their tail two days later.

Barely ducking under another bolt, she grabbed Marv and shoved him into an alley. She fired back at the soldiers to hold off their advance and flung herself into the tight space between buildings. Then, she sped after the captain and upon catching up to his panting form slumped over from exertion he wasn't used to, she pulled him up on his feet and urged to continue running, as they both heard the sounds of pursuit getting louder. They turned a few lefts and rights to throw it off from their trail and exited the maze, stepping again onto the main street.

'What are you doing? We need to hide!' Marv hissed at her, but Lucia wasn't fazed by his disapproval. Between the two of them, she was the specialist of quick getaways and she most certainly knew what she was doing, as opposed to the disoriented captain.

'Just act normally. I don't know what's going know, but we need to get back on the ship,' she replied calmly.

Seeing her quiet confidence and cool attitude helped Marv to pull himself together. He nodded at her shortly and activated his commlink to contact the Gamorreans who were guarding the ship. He knew there should have been at least two of them on shift, as the rest went in the morning to the city. However no one picked up the call.

The captain bit back a nasty curse.

'You think the Sith already got them?' he asked.

Lucia shrugged, though that scenario seemed most likely to have occurred. 'Let's go find out,' she suggested and sped up her pace.

They moved quickly, yet trying to appear unhurried so as not to get noticed and raise suspicion. Thankfully, they were already close to the space port, so it didn't take long too long to arrive there. Then, the luck they had suddenly vanished into thin air, as the Sith patrol came out from behind the corner.

'Halt!' the command was shouted at them.

Lucia remembers that particular moment very vividly. Marv and she ran into the docking bay, hoping to embark the ship and blast off from the planet, only to see it revving its engines and taking off into the sky.

Without them.

The feeling of numbing disbelief was immediately replaced by the deep stab of rage at the unexpected betrayal. Marv let loose a long, juicy string of expletives describing in detail the Gamorreans' parentage and what he would do when he would get his hands on them. Lucia just clenched her fists in a fit of helpless frustration and seethed in silence.

'Hands up! On your knees! In the name of the New Galactic Sith Empire, you are arrested, you Republic scum!'

The soldiers surrounded Lucia and Marv with blasters pointed at them threateningly, ready to fire at the slightest provocation.

There was no escape.

* * *

Visiting the Sith jail facilities was most decidedly at the bottom of the list of things Lucia wanted to do, especially in the character of a prisoner rather than from a morbid sense of curiosity. She remembers how hard a blow it was to her pride to be caught, which hadn't happened since she had been a child. She has always been able to outsmart her pursuers and seeing herself fail like that was a painful wake-up call at the time. Disarmed and sporting a few bruises and scrapes from the rough treatment at the hands of the Sith soldiers, she fell into self-reflection, sitting on the thin sleeping mat and staring moodily into space.

Unlike her, at first Marv burst with lividness, pacing around like a caged animal and ranting at the injustice of all that happened to him. After his anger passed, he just joined her on the mat, worn out and defeated. The heavy blanket of silence enveloped the two and not even the occasional rustle of clothes when they shifted position or the normally quiet sounds of breathing, which at the time seemed amplified, couldn't chase off the oppressive feeling the place was exuding.

They were left alone for a long time, though in reality it was but a few measly hours, with no other company than each other, as all the other cells on the block were empty.

The silence was disrupted by the loud boom of opening and closing of the door at the end of the corridor and the quick steps following it. Both Lucia and Marv snapped to attention, anticipating and simultaneously dreading the news the arrival would bring to them.

A young Sith officer in the rank of junior lieutenant stopped right in front of the containment field, which kept the prisoners locked inside the cell. Its violet glow casted on the man's face gave him an eerie appearance. His eyes slowly scanned over their wary expressions and stiff figures, as he stood at ease with hands inside the pockets of the immaculate uniform jacket.

'Well, well, what do we have here? Two birds in a cage. Hope you're canaries so you could sing us some beautiful songs,' he mused in a light tone.

Lucia just glared at him, feeling an intense antipathy for the man, yet choosing not to act on it. However, Marv didn't possess the same kind of restraint and leapt up to face the officer, standing as close to the containment field as it was physically possible.

'Who are you? Why were we arrested? It's an outrage! Why the hell would the Sith arrest me? I'm their own damn supplier! And where's my ship?' the outspoken captain launched his questions rapidly. The barrage would have continued if not for the raised hand of the lieutenant stopping it.

'Cam down, captain Stahl,' he drawled out. 'I'm not going to tell you anything you don't need to know right now. You're still going to be interrogated by our finest,' the last words he laced with sarcasm, letting them know what he really thought about the Sith interrogators.

'So why the hell did you come here and what do I need to know?' Marv bit out angrily.

'You would find as the most important news that your execution is set for tomorrow,' the man revealed the chilling information in a flippant manner.

'E-execution? To-tomorrow? No! I didn't do anything! There's no right...!' Marv spluttered in a feeble protest, his expression stunned as if he was hit by a blunt object on the head.

'And that's where I come into the picture. I'm here to make a deal with you, captain Stahl. Interested?'

Marv looked at him like a drowning man looks at the lifeline, but the marvel was quickly overcome by his usual business shrewdness.

'What do you want, junior lieutenant?' he asked.

'Ah, nothing much. Words would be enough.'

And by saying 'words', he actually meant it. In exchange for the dropping of charges and his release from the prison, Marv had to give a statement about his dealings with the quartermaster. Of course, the statement would be fabricated and result in a court martial and most likely a swift execution of the unsuspecting Neimoidian. The sly captain, sensing the right opportunity, negotiated additionally a new ship for himself, to which the junior lieutenant readily agreed.

Their business concluded, the Sith officer turned to leave.

'Wait!' Lucia called after him. 'What about me? Will I be executed?'

She stayed silent up until then, mildly disgusted but not really surprised at the ease with which Marv sold out his supposedly old friend just to save his own skin. She had no delusions that he would lift a finger to help her, whom he's only known for around a week. The officer might have been her last chance of salvation from death and she couldn't allow it to slip away.

'Probably yes, there's always a need for a scapegoat on these occasions,' the man answered her, uncaring.

'If you don't get me out of here, I'll tell about your lies!' she threatened, praying it would work. It didn't.

'What's stopping me from disengaging the containment field for a moment and disposing of you?' the officer countered her with his own threat. 'You need to try better,' he advised amicably.

Lucia remembers that moment with startling clarity. Her brain was working furiously, knowing that the failure wasn't an option. What she could give for her life and freedom? She didn't possess anything valuable, the only things that she truly owned were her skills.

There was no other conclusion and no real choice for a pragmatic being such as her, who valued her own survival above all else. Allowing herself to die equaled the ultimate loss and she would take any gamble, even the most risky and foolhardy of them, to avoid loosing at all.

Lucia looked the junior lieutenant straight into the eyes, her mind made up and the useless doubts discarded.

'Please, help me, sir. I'll do anything,' she declared truthfully.

A flash of satisfaction went through the man's face and for a moment she felt a creeping doubt about striking any kind of a deal with him. She immediately shook it off. She didn't need hesitancy, she needed actions.

* * *

Flames. Everything was going up in flames.

Swirling fire was dancing a merry jig, being reflected in Lucia's still, brown eyes as she gazed at the bonfire she had lit up. She was squatting before it, thankful for the small cover provided by the loose clump of undergrown trees outside the city premises, near the Sith base.

She had struck unconscious the guard who had come to fetch her from the arrest, taken his gun and bolted. There were no witnesses, as Marv had been already relocated. She'd had six minutes of a headstart then the alarm had set off, rousing the Sith soldiers into pursuit. However, she hadn't gone to the city as they would have expected her to do. Instead she had crept through the base unnoticed and broken into the sealed office of the quartermaster without much trouble.

Getting out of there in one piece undetected while carrying the stolen documents had proven more of a challenge. She'd run into one of the frequent patrols on her way out but managed to shoot them all before they had warned the others of her presence, quick enough that they hadn't had a chance to scream. If they hadn't been fresh recruits, she probably wouldn't have been able to pull this stunt off.

And that's the story behind Lucia's hiding in the woods, at the nightfall, with the archives she'd stolen as the only source of warmth keeping the evening chill at bay.

Lucia found herself in quite a conundrum. She was painfully aware that the freedom was only temporary. There wasn't a single speck of doubt whether the Sith would be able to connect the dots between her breakout, the subsequent burglary at the office of an accused traitor and a shooting of a whole patrol. The situation looked downright hopeless, when she took into consideration what she'd learned about the initial reason for the Sith to pursue Marv and her.

Poisoning. Someone had poisoned all the trained recruits that were to be sent to the battlefront come next week. With the often visits to Paasok, it was no wonder Lucia and her employer figured on the list as the prime suspects.

Lucia sighed and poked the burning documents with a stick, coaxing the flames to spread and consume them all. The stick also caught on fire, so she threw it into the middle of the pile.

The decision about her next course of action was a hard one to make and she openly loathed it, yet there existed no other option for her. In order to escape from the planet, she needed to gamble with her very own life... or lose it altogether, sooner or later.

* * *

The man entered his quarters in the barracks, locking the door behind him before he allowed himself a deep, cleansing exhale. He looked wiped out and stressed, though in Lucia's opinion he had no right to be, since all he did was keeping up the charade for the last few days, while she had been through absolute hell, narrowly dodging the patrols and barely catching any sleep, constantly on the edge. She observed from her spot in the darkest corner, out of his field of vision, as he pulled off his uniform jacket and left it crumpled on the chair, not caring about wrinkling the material, then stepped to the dresser. With his back turned to her, she moved noiselessly behind him. A quiet but intimately familiar click of a cocked gun had the man frozen.

'Don't make a single sound and I won't blow your head off,' she warned in a low voice.

He stayed silent, obeying her order, but it was still too soon for her to relax.

'Good,' Lucia muttered, then not taking him out of her sights backed up to snag the jacket off the chair and throw it away. She didn't want to risk him having access to any weapons he might have concealed in it when they would talk. 'Hands up. Slowly turn around,.'

He did as told, the recognition and surprise lighting up in his eyes as he caught a glimpse of her face. That made her job easier. She ordered him to take a seat at the table then sat across from him, the arm leaning on the tabletop and the gun point trained on him all the while.

'Now, I'm going to speak and you're going to agree to everything I say. Nod if you understand.'

The man nodded mutely.

'Seems like following your orders was a very bad and unhealthy idea, so I've figured since it's entirely your damn fault, you are going to help me get away from this planet and from the Sith. Capiche?'

A nod.

'If you try to betray me, well... I'm sure your bosses would love to know of your schemes, if you catch my drift,' she threatened mockingly.

The man wisely kept himself from responding in kind, as he apparently didn't want to antagonize someone aiming a blaster at him. A sound decision on his part because she wasn't playing around. Hiding like a rat was no longer a viable option. The time she could successfully evade the capture was running out and leaving the planet became imperative for her continued survival. Lucia was determined to see it happen.

* * *

Lucia remembers the satisfaction at startling the officer and forcing him to participate in her plans. Pity the feeling couldn't last and soon the reality of her situation turned the tables on her, so to speak. She had to face a choice she wouldn't have made otherwise. From hindsight it eventually paid off in the long run, but at the time, it was the most terrible, foolhardy risk of all she could have taken.

It was only marginally better than the imprisonment and a swift execution.

And that's how two days after cornering the junior lieutenant in his quarters she found herself on board of a shuttle, posing as one of the recruits who avoided the poisoning. Their unit was sent to reinforce the Sith army on the battlefront, with Ulabore, already promoted to lieutenant, in command. Looking at his strained, stressed out and not-so-confident figure, she seriously doubted any of them would come back alive.

Lucia sent a bitter smile at the yellowish orb of Traon III, the relief that she was leaving it behind vanishing in face of the helpless anger at the fate she was to partake in.

* * *

Now that she have reminisced about these days, she finally remembers how such an independent, self-centered person like her young self could get roped into serving for a cause she didn't support and fight in the war she didn't care for.

What do you call people joining the Sith army?

You call them the victims of circumstance.

* * *

_to be continued..._

* * *

AN: That was a long time I didn't update and I'm sorry for that. I blame the destructive effect of LotF on my will to write. Also, although I planned for Lucia to meet Dessel in this chapter, she just didn't want to cooperate so first I had to drag her kicking and screaming to the Sith army, what made the chapter much longer than anticipated. Next time, I'm heading to the events from "Path of Destruction".

Thanks for reading and please review! I'm open to all opinions, critiques, suggestions and advice.


	3. Walking in the Gloom

**Loyalty Is Her Second Name**

* * *

Chapter 3

Walking in the Gloom

* * *

Lucia stared despondently at the deep green planet they were about to land on and all too soon join the fray on the battlefield. She would have found it more agreeable if not for a fact that the planet was Kashyyk, the home of beastly strong and agile race of Wookies. The great physical prowess of their warriors coupled with masterful application of guerrilla tactics was enough to nullify the Sith army's technological advantage. Since the goal was to bring the planet under the Sith heel, not to lay waste to it, they had to rely on the numbers to overwhelm the Wookies. Hence, more and more soldiers' lives were sacrificed on this particular battlefront with no progress in sight. The morale was plummeting.

Of course, she didn't know all these details while still above the planet, yet subconsciously she picked up on the rising unease of lieutenant Ulabore. The rest of the recruits were too fresh and excited about their first battle engagement. The situation down there had to be getting desperate to allow such greenhorns to fight.

After the touch down on the landing platform at the top of the gigantic wroshyr trees and entering the military stronghold the Sith has established in the beginning of the conquest effort, Lucia's mood noticeably worsened, her features hardening into a stoic facade, as her jaw clenched tightly. Her mind was racing with a thousand thoughts. She saw the dispirited looks, some carefully concealed pity the experienced soldiers gave to her unit, the utter desolation of those who lost the hope to ever leave the planet alive. Lucia resolved she would absolutely not let herself to be led to the pointless slaughter. She just had to find a way.

Lucia looked spitefully at Ulabore's back as he left them on the yard to receive next orders. She didn't know what happened back on Traon III to turn him into a bundle of nerves, but she strongly suspected the change of heart occurred in him after witnessing quartermaster Paasok's execution. Apparently the one to carry out the death sentence was a Sith Lord. They were rumoured to be the most vicious warriors. Most of the beings, even their followers, prayed not to encounter any of them, and if unlucky – not to cause their wrath. Her assumption about Ulabore must have been correct, because what else could spurn the man into checking the condition of unit's brand new, fresh from the storage uniforms and equipment five times a day?

Two of the recruits, due to boredom, started to exuberantly play with their blaster rifles, mock shooting at each other. The rest of the unit was standing around, watching them with mild interest.

'Ha ha, dodge this!' exclaimed playfully one recruit.

As the other was theatrically ducking to the side in exaggerated manner, suddenly the first one's rifle released a shot. Thankfully, it went above the recruit's head and struck the trunk of a tree.

'What's your problem, man! You could've killed me!' shouted angrily the almost victim, regaining his wits after the scare.

'Sorry, it was an accident! I didn't even touch the trigger!' the shooter swore.

That explanation didn't go down well and the argument escalated into a fistfight, which was broken down only after the return of lieutenant Ulabore. The man was in a foul mood, the deep wrinkle marring his forehead a sure sign of suppressed irritation. Lucia was good at recognizing fear and Ulabore practically reeked of it. This observation doubled her want to get away from his command.

'If you two have the energy to start a brawl, you're going to take a point position when we go out,' Ulabore decided on the punishment.

The unfortunate blokes didn't sense the malice in his tone, because they puffed up in pride, thinking that being on the point will guarantee more kills to brag about later. Lucia didn't pity them – if they were killed, it would be their own fault for being so stupid.

Ulabore had the unit march to another part of the base to pick up a batch of equally fresh recruits from a different training facility. Then the both units would combine to form a single squad.

During the move, Lucia specially loosened up the strap of her rifle, so that the weapon would dangle and bang against her thigh with every step she took. Next, she surreptitiously switched off the safety and put her finger on the trigger. Bracing herself, she squeezed it.

Lucia howled in complete agony, tumbling to the ground. She didn't imagine it would hurt this much, but then she's never been shot from a point blank range. Through a haze of pain she barely registered the commotion around her.

Someone was shouting for the medic, two strong arms tore her hands away from the smoking wound, which was gushing the blood like a fountain, another pair was putting pressure on it, trying to staunch the bloodloss. Before the real medical help arrived, Lucia had dropped into a dead faint.

* * *

Lucia remembers waking up groggily on a cot in a stuffy hospital room. The smell of disinfectant hung in the air, poorly masking smells of bodily fluids, which mixed up with it to create the disgusting odour she was forced to breathe in. When she tried to sit up, a lance of pain stabbed her in the leg, sending the throb all the way up to her spine. She groaned through her parched throat and after a moment of rest, made a very slow, careful attempt to sit up, using only her arms.

Lightheaded from the strain, she took in the sight of her surroundings. It wasn't a room, like she's assumed at first, but a big hall filled to the brim with rows upon rows of cots occupied by injured soldiers. Some were in a deep, medication-induced sleep, others were awake like her. Soft wisps of conversation reached Lucia's ears but she couldn't distinguish most of the words spoken. Light moans of terror escaped those in throes of a nightmare.

Lucia temporarily had nothing to do besides laying down and waiting for the wound to heal. To stave off the boredom she closed her eyes and focused on her hearing to eavesdrop, but whatever snippets she caught weren't worth much. She opened her eyes and sighed, then turned to the neighbouring cots to start up a chat. Abruptly, she became as white as a sheet – the men, laying on both her sides, were dead. Their stiffness, pale skin pallor, open, unmoving eyes meant that they had probably passed away a few hours again.

If she was superstitious, she would have taken is a bad sign., but she's only been spooked. Lucia certainly wasn't a stranger to dead bodies, though she's never stayed long around them, unlike her current predicament. Seeing a fly wondering down the face of a corpse, she shuddered with disgust.

The nurses came in, thankfully, though not soon enough for Lucia's tastes. The corpses were taken out, but the cots didn't stay unoccupied for long. After breakfast of disgusting mush she had forced herself to swallow, new patients were brought in to the ward. Her two new, breathing neighbours looked too banged up to talk, so she didn't bother.

Lucia remembers her stay in the hospital as immensely boring, however she was so pleased with her ruse to avoid taking part in the hopeless battle working, that it made it all worth. Her wound was very deep and she had to wait six weeks before she was allowed to stand up from the bed. Blaster shot destroyed a good chunk of her thigh and breached the artery. Healing would have been faster if not for a fact that the Sith wouldn't have allowed a lowly recruit like her the treatment in the bacta tank. Also, the supplies of synth-muscle tissue were running out and she had to wait for a new batch to arrive to have them transplanted.

To alleviate the dullness she chatted with the neighbouring patients who despite being immobilised eventually found enough energy to hold a conversation for more than a few seconds. Information, no matter the source, or even just a good story had a great value in the ward, allowing to make fast friends and Lucia used it to her advantage.

The opening she needed was created by the news of the Gloom Walkers, a platoon of fresh recruits, who had been cut off from the main forces and had spent three days of nearly constant combat before finding their way back. What was more astonishing, they had suffered miraculously low losses with body count of only six. The whole army glowed with pride about this feat of unheard bravery, the morale rising rapidly.

When Lucia learned that it was lieutenant Ulabore's platoon, she jumped upon the chance to mention she had been assigned there. Disregarding her own utter disbelief the man could have succeeded in leadership like that, she obliged other people's eager curiosity about him and spouted nonsense after nonsense about his supposed greatness, charisma and integrity. Although she had no lost love for Ulabore, spinning such stories in his favour was advantageous to her.

The fairy tales were in demand and so fairy tales she delivered on a daily basis, in turn gathering useful information about the reality of serving in the Sith army, which then allowed her to plan how to stay away from the battle in the future. Never again would she resort to self-maiming. Just in this one instance she had an incredible amount of luck the injury was fully recoverable from and she wouldn't have any problems with mobility. Besides, she couldn't afford getting noticed by the medical staff for purposely keeping herself away from duty, as it was grounds for execution.

As Lucia left the ward under her own steam, brimming with relief mixed with trepidation, she knew the trick was to land a safe position as far away from Wookie's sharp claws as possible. Thankfully, since Gloom Walkers first deployment, the tides of war have turned on the invaders' side. The Sith army was swiftly advancing, beating the natives and Republican troops into submission. Half of the planet was already brought under their undisputed control.

The war machine was unstoppable. Soon the Wookies would understand that accepting defeat was necessary in order to survive. Soon their pride would be broken and ground into fine dust. It was just a matter of time.

But before this time came, Lucia had to report in the administration building to get her new troop assignment. Along the way she saw the ships leaving the planet. She cast a few longing looks in their direction, knowing that desertion was the worst thing she could attempt at the moment. The Sith treated it like the highest crime and so the punishment was also of the highest order. She shuddered remembering the gruesome stories describing what happened to those who tried to escape, told in whispers by other patients.

Lucia decided to stick to her plan, while looking for an opportunity. She found the right office and confidently entered. She gave the young office worker her best smile, hoping to get in his good graces and change around the assignment to suit her needs if necessary. It seemed to work, as the man considerably brightened at her sight.

'Junior trooper Lucia, ID 0753479, reporting in, sir,' she said. The man nodded and shuffled through the papers littering his desk.

'Ah yes, I have your assignment... here!' he pulled out the right form from the pile triumphantly. 'You're to report to squad P20 in barracks C.'

Lucia looked at him flirtatiously from under lowered eyelashes, while curling a lock of hair around her finger. 'Do you know what I'll be doing in there, sir? Any advice?' she asked, pouting cutely. Inwardly, she felt pretty stupid doing all of that. However, it had the desired effect.

'Well, yes, of course I know!' the man said proudly. 'It's just some patrolling duty, now that the beasts are on retreat, you probably won't see much action.'

Lucia, hearing good news, gave him a sincere smile. 'Thank you, sir!' she saluted and stepped out of the office.

'If you have some time, come to the west cantina for a drink!' the man stood up and called after her.

'Sure,' she replied, absently noting to herself to go only to the east cantina. She didn't need any drama with officers at the moment, especially of the kind dealing with heart matters. She was in enough predicament as it was – surviving the war unscathed took priority over any romantic entanglements the man might have hoped for.

* * *

Lucia remembers biding her time.

She bided her time as she was acquainted with her unit. They were all remains from fully decimated squads so she stuck out like a sore thumb, having virtually no experience in fighting in the unique environment of Kashyyk. Her isolation was lessened by the fact that some of them were also recently released from the hospital, though she didn't recognize anyone. All in all, a decent, if a little on a paranoid side, bunch.

She bided her time as she went out with the squad for the patrols. Checking their assigned area regularly sounded boring. It was anything but. The gigantic trees, wroshyr, created so many hidden spots, secret pathways, gave a habitat to so many creatures, both lethal and harmless, that she had to never let her guard down, lest she would have been killed and eaten, not necessarily in that order. Now she better understood where the others' paranoia came from. And whenever they returned alive and no worse for the wear, it felt surprisingly exhilarating.

She bided her time as she fought. The Wookie and Republican forces made a formidable enemy, expertly taking advantage of the home turf, always laying in ambush to strike when least expected. Once the squad was attacked by a madclaw – a Wookie who had lost his honour and fought like an animal, clawing and biting. They were a terror for the whole Sith army, because as they had nothing more to lose, they stopped fearing death, turning into bloodthirsty berserkers. It was no wonder while a half of the squad froze in fear and stupefaction upon seeing their comrade suddenly torn apart and tossed aside like a ragdoll by a ferocious, towering, wild mass of muscle, fur and sharp claws, dripping with blood of its victim, the other half of the squad turned tail and ran away in primal panic.

Lucia belonged to the first half. Contrary to her normal behaviour when faced with mortal danger, the sight of such a gruesome death of a person she ate breakfast with not too long ago, the suddenness of the attack, the brutality – all of it shook her up enough to root her in a spot. She looked uncomprehendingly at the Wookie – no, the beast – who let out a vicious bellow, locking its eyes with hers. She saw in them the all-consuming hatred and rage, bloodlust and insanity taking over the conscious thought, leaving a mindless creature in their wake. Lucia saw it all and understood it all, her blood chilled. In split second, as the beast pounced, she raised the rifle.

Aim. Shoot. Kill.

It was but an instinct.

Lucia gazed blankly at the Wookie laying at her feet, its mighty body trembling, the claws tearing through the wood of a platform like through paper. At last, it stilled. Only then the fact that she shot it cold-bloodedly mid-leap caught up with her and she gasped.

It was the first Wookie she killed but certainly not the last.

Upon their return, the squad threw a celebration party in the cantina. Although she was a hero of the day, Lucia drank moderately, allowing herself only a little buzz. The others weren't so restrained and soon the party became too rowdy for her tastes, so she slinked out to go for a walk.

Her feet took her near the landing platform. As Lucia watched the unloading and take-off of one of the supply ships, she realized she could have easily boarded it and escaped the planet with the Sith none the wiser.

She smiled, looking up at the distant stars lighting the night sky.

'Maybe some other time...' she whispered and toasted to them silently.

Lucia stopped biding her time. For better or worse, she was staying.

* * *

The Jedi say that Force works in mysterious ways. Lucia, though not a very believing type, this time was inclined to agree.

While the campaign on Kashyyk was practically won, only small pockets of resistance remaining for the Sith to pick off at their leisure, the bulk of main forces was relocated to Trandosha. Although Lucia's squad wasn't deployed there, she's heard about the great losses sustained by both the Sith and Republic on the plains of Hsskhor, the capital of the planet. In the end the Sith gained Trandoshans' support they wanted, but for Lucia it meant another thing – reassignment.

When the orders came for the squad to be disbanded and for its members to reinforce one of the units which survived Hsskhor, she wasn't very surprised. What put her on edge was the name of that unit – Gloom Walkers.

Was it coincidence or was it fate? She doesn't know but considering all that happened later in her life it couldn't have been just by chance that she was placed back under Ulabore's command or rather – Sergeant Dessel's command. Meeting him wasn't just luck – and she finds it all the more terrifying for that.

After her release from the hospital she stopped keeping up with the gossip about Gloom Walkers. Some reconnaissance was long overdue, so she headed to the cantina.

A few hours later, when she got back woozily to the barracks, her head was pounding from all the information. From what she gathered, it seemed like the real command in the squad didn't belong to Ulabore (she snorted, all of them would be dead if that was a case). Instead, the de facto leader was Sergeant Dessel and at this point all the relations and recounts of the man started to vary. The only other thing everyone agreed on was his appearance – tall and bald human male in his early twenties. Everything else seemed to be up to debate.

Lucia rubbed over her eyes to lessen the pain as she pondered over all the opinions (and wild speculations) about him.

_'Sergeant Des? He's a great soldier, it'd be an honour to serve with him!'_

_'Huge and scary guy.'_

_'That freaking giant? I heard he's killed a Wookie with his bare hands! How crazy is that?'_

_'He's a damn cheater! Always winning in sabacc is impossible! Impossible, I tell you!'_

_'Well, I think he's kind of cute...'_

And so on...

Looked like a complicated man, all right. Lucia decided she would have to see him for herself before forming her own opinion and went to sleep.

* * *

The first encounter with the infamous Sergeant wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Lucia's unit was shipped off to Karlis, where they joined Gloom Walkers.

Standing in perfect rows and being subjected to Ulabore prattling on about orders this and duty that was a maddening experience, especially for Lucia who had a much better knowledge about the man's deeds than anyone around. Thankfully, he ceased talking and left with impeccable timing, as she was seriously considering turning homicidal and shooting him was worth a while of peace and quiet. After such a long time apart, she found out that his mere voice was grating on her nerves.

The unit saluted mandatorily as Ulabore left. His vacant place in front of them was taken by the huge, bald man with impressive physique, which couldn't really be hidden under his uniform. Lucia briefly wondered whether he had trained something to acquire the bulging muscles.

What was most important about him wasn't his physical appearance but the aura he exuded. He had a specific, commanding presence, the special charisma characteristic to a natural born leader. It was clearly seen in the eyes of his soldiers – the absolute admiration and respect shining in them brilliantly.

Sergeant Dessel rapped his knuckles against his chest and the veterans returned the gesture. Those unfamiliar with it saluted.

'Probably you're all wondering what it means,' Sergeant's voice rang clearly as he addressed the newcomers. 'It's a sign. A sign we made to show our bond, which was forged in battle on Kashyyk, tempered in blood spilled on Trandosha. It's the unbreakable bond of loyalty. You may think – what the hell is it, this loyalty? We were sent to the wolves, to fight and die and no one's going to care. And I tell you – you're wrong!' He looked at them fiercely and a few flinched as if burned by the conviction in his eyes. 'There are people who care and these are your comrades. When you fall, they give you a hand, when you're wounded, they bandage your wounds and when you're killed – they avenge you ten times over! That is loyalty. In our squad no one is left behind. This is Gloom Walkers' way, our way! Are you with us?!' he raised his fist.

'YES SIR!' boomed the ear-splitting, enthusiastic reply.

Lucia shouted it along others, her eyes watering unexpectedly, a tight, warm feeling blossoming in her chest. She felt as if she found at last something precious she was looking for her entire life and she never wanted to let it go. All her reservations vanished as she looked at the man standing before her with bright eyes, knowing she would follow him into the fire, because she recognized the truth in his words.

Sergeant thumped his chest.

Louder, multiple thumps immediately answered him.

* * *

Soon enough Sergeant's words were put to test as they were deployed on a first mission. Though Karlis was already under the Sith control, there was still a good chunk of land belonging to the Republican factions. They would have been left to themselves as they weren't much of a combat threat, but since they have attained the planet's power conduit facility and demanded for the Sith to leave or the power would stay cut off, the brass wasn't about to let them off lightly. Hence, Gloom Walkers were sent to retake the facility with as low collateral damage as possible.

That was the gist of Ulabore's briefing on the mission. With lot of noise and wild gesturing, he tried exceptionally hard to appear as if he was the one in command, but he wasn't fooling anyone – everyone and their mother knew he would relegate the actual work with planning the tactics for the operation to Sergeant. _Promoting Sarge must have been the best decision he's ever made_, Lucia thought snidely.

The power conduit facility was located in the middle of a hilly plain covered with grass so tall, a Wookie could hide in it without a need to hunch. To stack the odds in their favour, the Republicans turned the area into a minefield and kept a wide belt around the outer walls of the complex mowed, so that the guards could spot anyone lucky enough to avoid stepping on the mines and obliterate them with the blaster turrets from the elevated positions on top of the walls. In this case, stealth was the key to success.

Under the cover of the night, unheard thanks to the rustle of grasses, Gloom Walkers divided into four assault teams and cautiously followed their appointed leaders. To safely navigate the field, they had to rely on probe droids which scouted the way in advance. They went one after another, mindful a single misstep could mean getting blown to pieces and jeopardizing the mission.

Lucia belonged to the team led by Sergeant himself, but it didn't serve to calm her down. She was all tense, as it was her first so risky and important operation. Even though it was going without a hitch, she couldn't relax. Apparently, it wasn't just her own impression, because Sergeant halted them to consult the other teams by radio. He sent out the probe droid to scan ahead of them for any lifeforms or other droids but the investigation came up empty. The team moved on.

'What's that awful smell?' a soldier following behind Lucia complained in a whisper. She didn't respond, though she silently agreed with him – the smell was strongly irritating to the nose and eyes. A sudden splash startled her. It sounded like someone stepped into a deep puddle. They halted again and the probe hummed while analyzing the substance which definitely wasn't water.

'Shit,' Sergeant bit back a curse, checking the results and commed other teams. 'The enemy spilled oil over the field.'

Now Lucia wasn't just worried, she was seriously alarmed. Oil was a highly flammable fluid, one spark would be enough to set it off and kill them all in the explosion. Yet they couldn't go back.

They safely reached the inner edges of the field and stopped for a breath. The snipers were preparing to simultaneously take out the guards on the walls.

'Three... two... one... Fire!' came the command and several blaster bolts were shot in perfect unison. All but one hit their targets.

'Go!' ordered Sergeant at the same time as one of the turrets, manned by a guard who avoided the swift death by a stroke of luck, opened fire in their direction.

The assault team ran out of the cover, as the oil-saturated grass became alight with a loud blast. They practically flew, propelled by the wind from the explosion. The open field stretching for around two hundred meters provided enough distance even for a lone defender to massacre the attackers. Yet, they had no choice but to move forward and up the gentle slope.

Of all the things that could have happened to Lucia, she had to stumble on the uneven ground. She pitched forward but managed to catch herself on her arms, however it was long enough delay for her to fall back behind the rest. _So much for not leaving anyone behind, _she thought bitterly.

Someone grabbed her under arms and lifted her on her feet. She looked dumbfounded at the saviour who happened to be Sergeant Dessel himself. It seemed that he stayed behind the team to make sure no one would fall back... like her.

He gave her a cursory glance, checking for injuries, then finding none, pulled her along into run.

'You alright?' he asked anyway.

'I'm fine, just tripped,' Lucia replied shortly.

'Good! We need to take out the last guard!' that last sentence was shouted to the main group, a few paces in front of them.

One of the snipers positioned himself but before he could take a shot, a red bolt grazed his shoulder. The sniper rifle slipped from his grip and rolled down the slope. Not really thinking Lucia lunged for the weapon, pointed it at the enemy, taking only half a second to aim and fired. The turret fell silent.

'Nice shot, soldier,' Sergeant complimented. 'You should keep this rifle.'

Lucia nodded in gratitude for his praise and hang the gun over her shoulder. She wouldn't need it in close combat inside the buildings.

The rest of the operation was a piece of cake compared to the high danger level they were exposed to in the beginning. The other teams had more luck in disposing of the wall guards but lost a few troopers each during the fight which broke out inside the facility after they had made breaches in the walls with explosives. The resistance forces weren't well-armed, most of their equipment coming from the Sith they killed to capture the facility in the first place, but they were backed into a corner and fought desperately, to the last one standing. The sole exception was a prisoner taken by Sergeant himself for questioning.

All in all, the first mission of the revitalized Gloom Walkers was a staggering success. No thanks to Ulabore, what didn't really stop him from taking all the credit for it.

More importantly, Lucia realized that what Sergeant had spoken of – loyalty, fidelity, camaraderie wasn't just an empty talk, meant to motivate soldiers and raise morale. These values really existed, the mission on Karlis along with many instances later on a solid proof of it.

Any thoughts of desertion she might have still harboured, left her mind. From then on, Lucia belonged to Gloom Walkers in body and soul, her fate bound to theirs more tightly by her own devotion than no amount of coercion and terror could ever achieve.

* * *

Lucia remembers the enigma that was Sergeant Dessel and how it frustrated her that she could never truly figure him out. Not for her lack of trying, of course. Maybe there just weren't any fitting labels for him – in any time, in any place, the man remained maddeningly inscrutable.

She knew it wasn't because of his perfect poker face, which won him many difficult hands in sabacc, or even because of his uncanny situational awareness, which enabled him to spot observers right away. These weren't of much consequence. No, the man's impenetrable shield was built on the discrepancies in his behaviour.

Sergeant was much more complicated than a casual onlooker would give him a credit for. He looked like a thug but many times Lucia caught him in deep thought or engaging in the intelligent discussion with officers in the cantina. He was a shining example of a Sith soldier and a damn good leader but he didn't care for accolades, letting lieutenant Ulabore bask in the glory of his victories. He did his best to ensure the survival of his subordinates but didn't allow anyone close, choosing to keep them all at arm's length. He drank but never got smashed. He was a card shark but didn't seem to value his winnings.

In short – the man was a walking contradiction and she couldn't help but become fascinated with him.

These times, Lucia was in a perpetual good mood, giving more genuine smiles to people in a day than she gave in months. She could be often found humming a tune during completing some mundane task or joking with other soldiers. As hard as it was to believe, she actually was enjoying herself, despite the war and danger.

'You seem ridiculously happy to be in the middle of enemy territory,' struck up the conversation one of a few women in the platoon and her old comrade from P20, Ivie.

Lucia slid her gaze from the temporary camp to her. Everyone besides those on guard duty was sitting or laying on the ground comfortably, drinking the warm soup from their canteens.

'Too cozy to be the middle of enemy territory,' she drawled.

'Quiet before the storm,' Ivie said and plopped down on Lucia's left. She looked down pensively. 'Heard you've got sharp instincts. Don't you feel anything's off?' she asked abruptly.

Lucia looked at her appraisingly. 'Relax,' she said and gestured with her chin in the direction of Sergeant who was leaning over a map and discussing something in low tones with Senior Trooper Adanar. 'See them? As long as we have Sarge, there's nothing to worry about.'

'Maybe you're right,' Ivie sighed. 'I'm stressing myself out for no reason.'

The two lapsed into silence, enjoying the warmth of sun and the breeze delicately caressing their skin.

'What do you think about him?' Ivie asked suddenly.

'About who?'

'Sergeant.'

'He's great,' Lucia answered immediately. Nothing else came to mind.

'Just great?' There was amusement seeping into Ivie's voice.

'Yeah,' Lucia looked at her suspicious of the digging.

'Rrright,' the other woman said unconvinced.

Before Lucia could inquire what was the matter with her, came the orders to wind up the camp and move out again. Unfortunately, it seemed like Ivie had a well-developed sixth sense herself, because there was an ambush right after the nightfall. Ivie and a few unlucky others were killed then. Later, when Lucia had time to think about this particular conversation, she finally understood what Ivie was getting at.

Her admiration of Sergeant had nothing to do with any silly crush, she was sure, even if her old comrades from the patrol squad attributed her new upbeat attitude to falling in love. She just felt happy and content. For the first time in her life she belonged somewhere, she was needed and wanted. In Gloom Walkers she found home and, dare she say, family. Reluctantly, she counted in even Ulabore, because frankly what other officer would have allowed Sergeant to formulate the plans for most operations they had?

Lucia had no romantic feelings for Sergeant. She didn't crave any physical contact with him, except a pat on the back with praise or maybe a hand on her shoulder when she needed reassurance, nothing more. She had never before met and never after would meet such a man, a man she adored and respected from the depths of her very soul.

From a perspective of time, Lucia realizes he was the only authority she's ever willingly deferred to. As long as she lived, she despised those in power, at the top of a societal pyramid as she knew they despised who they considered the lowly vermin, like her, back. But with Sergeant it was all completely different, because he genuinely didn't think of his soldiers as beneath him, rather he was one amongst them. For that Lucia looked up to him, listened to his orders and followed him with unshakeable trust.

* * *

And then the disaster unexpectedly struck, unjustly robbing Lucia of what she most treasured in her heart, leaving behind desolation and burning embers of hatred.

The thrice damned operation on Phaseera.

The events there were deeply etched in Lucia's memory, impossible to erase and forget. She remembers her own feelings – being excited about a new mission, pleased when Sergeant opposed Ulabore and took over the command, awed when he singlehandedly, with closed eyes, shot all nine Republican troopers on the lookout, proud that the mission was flawlessly completed and the platoon didn't suffer any losses, all thanks to him. Not even once did she feel worry, convinced of her Sergeant's invincibility. She believed that he was untouchable.

What a fool she had been!

Then it all came crashing down, like a sandcastle washed away by a hurtling wave, as one critical, almost lethal blow was dealt to Gloom Walkers by the hands of their own estranged lieutenant.

Sergeant Dessel was arrested for insubordination and assault on his commanding officer. Lucia tried to argue on his behalf, as his actions saved the lives of the whole platoon and the mission ended successfully, but to the regulations it didn't matter whether he was right or wrong, only whether he obeyed the orders. No one in the higher chain of command cared that the orders in question would have unnecessarily led the platoon on a suicidal attack with extremely low chances of survival. Sergeant had to pay for his transgression.

Gloom Walkers helplessly observed as he was taken away to the main camp for a persecution. They all knew what it meant – that they would never see him again, his fate sealed because they stupidly left a few greenhorns to guard the bound Ulabore and prevent him from saying anything.

In the aftermath of Phaseera the words between comrades weren't needed, the credo drumming in their hearts dictated what actions to take later. The retribution was swift and surprisingly fulfilling as those judged guilty were silently ostracized and left to die on the next battlefields. Ulabore himself apparently didn't notice anything alarming, probably too busy thanking the Force there were no consequences for his ineptitude on Phaseera.

There could have been found many justifications for his betrayal – he was betrayed first, after all, but was he, really? His own cowardice, the fear he had of not following orders to the letter, brought this on him. If he valued his own life and reputation more than the lives of the whole platoon, he shouldn't have been surprised when they returned the sentiment.

Lucia remembers they were on Alaris Prime, retreating because they walked into ambush they could have easily avoided if not for their lieutenant's incompetency. Of course, Ulabore was fleeing first, not even looking back to see if they were keeping up with him. It was then Lucia made her decision.

She'd had enough of his cowardice.

So she moved right behind him and squeezed the trigger, sending a beautifully red spray of blaster bolts into his back. Ulabore screamed once – and the sound of agony in this scream was a music to her ears – before he toppled down.

Fifty pairs of eyes observed the execution calmly. Not a one pair of lips uttered words of protest.

Gloom Walkers moved on to take more advantageous positions and fight off the ambushing Republicans, their former lieutenant left in the mud to rot.

_'… and when you're killed – they avenge you ten times over!' _the words echoed in their heads.

* * *

Lucia remembers years of war after that as a long sequence of repetitions, forming a bloody cycle with no end in sight. In her mind she still sees the blinding volleys of blaster bolts, hears the deafening cannonade and bloodcurdling screams of the wounded laying in the ditches as thick clouds of smoke cloy her airways. She can't forget the everpresent scent of fear and despair, which slickened her body with sweat and made her tremble uncontrollably on too many occasions. There was no reassuring presence of Sergeant to lean on, only equally damp backs of her comrades.

These dark times were ruled by the overpowering terror but Lucia and the rest of Gloom Walkers couldn't afford to let it paralyze them, their defiance disallowing it a free reign over them. The Sith teachings became invaluable, transforming fear into anger and hatred towards the enemy, which propelled them into action. Lucia didn't care for the Force, Dark Sides and Light Sides, but for ensuring her own survival along with her comrades'. Right or wrong didn't have a place in this equation of life and death. She didn't think twice about taking a young, maybe sixteen-years-old Republican recruit's head in the sights of her sniper rifle and shooting a clean, round hole just between the eyes.

The end of war came suddenly during a clash on Ruusan, when the Brotherhood of Darkness's final suicide attack failed, taking almost no enemies along on a trip to hell. The Sith army, vulnerable and deprived of the highest command, quickly lost to the organized and led by the Jedi Republic forces. By that time the original Gloom Walkers, though regularly replenished by the less experienced troops who were always the first to die in combat, could be counted on the fingers of two hands. Seeing no sense or benefit in fighting for a lost cause started by the dead people, the platoon peacefully surrendered.

They were placed in a camp for prisoners of war and stayed there for long six months after the end of hostilities as the Republican Senate debated back and forth about the status of former Sith soldiers. Meanwhile, they were put to work, repairing and melding old machinery. It was an arduous job, with mostly food and medical supplies as their meager pay. As the time passed without the government reaching any sound decision, Lucia started coming up with plans to escape the camp, however the release was ordered before she put them into motion.

Lucia remembers as she and the rest of the Gloom Walkers were standing in the spaceport and saying their goodbyes.

'This is the end, I guess,' she tried to smile at them but couldn't hide the sadness. They smiled back uneasily, everyone barely grasping the fact they wouldn't probably see each other ever again. It was hard to believe they would be separated after all these years keeping company together and fighting side by side.

'Stop this sentimental crap right now,' Adanar, the next Sergeant after Dessel, snapped them back to attention. 'Gloom Walkers may be disbanded for good and we may be parting ways, but it doesn't mean our bond disappeared. It's still here, alive in our hearts an it will never break, just like Des was always saying. You all better stop moping, you're just going home!'

The group of veterans nodded, inspirited by the impromptu speech.

'Yes sir!' they chorused.

Adanar thumped his chest in their old gesture which they enthusiastically returned.

'Gloom Walkers, dismissed!'

With a last glance and smile, they dispersed, everyone heading for their own shuttle home. Lucia also turned to leave but Adanar stopped her.

'What about you, Lucia? Where will you go?' he asked, knowing that her home planet was out of the question.

She gave a pause, then answered thoughtfully. 'Does it matter? I'll go wherever the opportunity takes me. There's a whole galaxy to see.'

'Be careful out there.'

'You too. Don't worry about me, as long as I have this,' she patted the blaster pistol at her side,' those out there should look out for me, not the other way round,' she said cheekily.

'Very true,' he chuckled.

Lucia realized she had to hurry if she wanted to board her transport on time.

'Goodbye, Adanar!' she waved.

'Goodbye, Lucia! And good luck!' he called after her.

She raised her fist but didn't turn back.

It was a high time to start her life anew.

* * *

_to be continued..._

* * *

AN: Thanks for reading and please review! I'm open to all opinions, critiques, suggestions and advice.


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